


Marble Skinned

by WhenTheCanonShootsOnlyBlanks



Series: Roisa Summer Fic Week 2017 [6]
Category: Jane the Virgin (TV)
Genre: F/F, Greek myth AU, Pygmalion and Galatea, The gods are unusually nice, Zeus fucks no one, rfws17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 15:28:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11512224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhenTheCanonShootsOnlyBlanks/pseuds/WhenTheCanonShootsOnlyBlanks
Summary: ...In nova fert animus mutatas dicere formas......I intend to speak of forms changed into new entities...OrLuisa is a humble sculptor with a simple wish, for her statue to come to life.





	Marble Skinned

Red. Wine red. Luisa tracked the droplet over the freshly hewn marble with her eyes. It added something vibrant to the otherwise lifeless stone. She watched it until it dripped on the statue’s base, only then noticing where it had begun its journey.

Blood was seeping from her right hand, slow, steady droplets dripping onto the cool marble.

She cursed, finally noticing the sting of the wound. She must have slipped with the chisel.

Quickly, she put her tools down, making her way between the blocks of rough marble to the stream outside so she could wash the blood away.

It was still dark outside, something she hadn’t noticed while working by the firelight. The cold mountain water stung as she dipped her hand in it, but as it washed the blood away it began to numb the pain as well.

With her hand held high she retreated back into her home. Underneath a pile of other rags in the corner she found some clean linen strips just the right size for bandaging the nick in her palm. Before wrestling with the bandage, she applied some garlic paste mixed with lavender oil. The scent was atrocious but it helped with wound healing.

As she tried to get the bandage to stay in place while she wound it around her hand, she once again wished there was someone else here who could help her with things like these.

She couldn’t get an apprentice like most sculptors did on account of her being a woman, and that wasn’t what she’d meant anyway.

She wanted someone to laugh with, someone who would tell her to come to bed when she worked all night long, someone who cared for her and she could care for in return. An equal in every way. But she had never found someone like that.

Her name was known throughout the region for her skill with marble, the best sculptor on the island, but her skills with people were far less renowned. So instead she was alone, with her statues.

She walked back into her studio, hand properly bandaged. The rosy fingers of dawn were still hours away.

With a wet rag she wiped her blood away from the marble, not wanting it to stain the stone. She paused as she noticed the drops had started at the corner of the statue’s eye, like she was crying blood.

Luisa took a step back, sitting down on a stool, just looking at her half-finished statue. She hadn’t had any commissions for a while. But she’d had a dream a few weeks ago, about the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. She’d had hair kissed by fire, eyes blue like the summer sky and her smile was the most beautiful thing Luisa had ever seen. She had to sculpt her, to catch the fleeting dream in solid stone.

She knew she loved this woman, oh, if only she was real not just stone.

She had picked her highest quality block of marble for the job, the one she had been saving for something special. Once she had started working the woman had taken shape almost on her own, guiding Luisa’s chisel and hammer. It was the best work she had ever made, and she was glad the chisel had struck her hand instead of the stone wrongly.

She trailed her fingers softly over the statue’s elegant cheekbones, the marble cool under her fingertips.

‘I wish you were real,’ she whispered out loud this time, picking her chisel back up to work on the soft curls tumbling around bare white shoulders.

Leagues away, high up in the clouds, the gods held court.

As Ares and Athena got into it over some tedious matter of war, Aphrodite’s attention was pulled away from Mount Olympus towards the small island of Cyprus, her birthplace.

She still held a special fondness for its inhabitants, to people who had been so kind to her when she appeared on their shores eons ago. One person in particular had grabbed her attention as of late. A sculptor who went by the name of Luisa, an unusual name for an unusual woman.

The mortal had recently sculpted the new statue for her temple on the island, and Aphrodite had been impressed with her skill with marble. The likeness was clear and the statue was gorgeous, almost lifelike, like it could draw breath at any moment.

From her throne on Olympus she had watched Luisa. The woman lived all alone in her house near the creek, no husband or children running under foot. As she watched a little closer she found the reason why; whenever Luisa was in town she always sat down on the middle of the agora, sketching the women selling their wares, paying the arguing men no heed.

Aphrodite could understand. Sometimes she too preferred the soft beauty of a woman to the rugged handsomeness of men. It did not matter to her either way. Everyone should have someone to love and to love them back, and she could see Luisa was slowly disappearing under the weight of her loneliness.

She waited until the other gods had finished arguing before making her way to Cyprus, adopting the form of an old woman as she landed on the island’s shores.

The trees waved at her as she climbed up the mountain towards the sculptor’s home. With a curl of her hand a basket with fresh bread and cheese appeared on her arm. She was feeling generous today and decided to help the mortal woman out a little.

‘Sculptor!’ she called out as she reached the simple clay home with its thatched roof, old blocks of marble lining the small yard.

The hammering stopped and the woman walked out, wiping her hands on a rag.

 _She’s pretty_ , Aphrodite thought to herself. _And talented. Why is she alone?_

‘You called for me?’ Luisa said, brushing the dust of the traditional chiton she was wearing.

‘I saw your statue at the temple. I wanted to meet the creator of it in person. It’s gorgeous.’

Luisa smiled. ‘Thank you. But you did not have to come all this way for that. Here, take a seat. Your feet must be tired.’ She produced a chair from inside, putting it down behind Aphrodite, who only looked like an old woman to her.

‘You are very kind, child,’ Aphrodite said as she took a seat. _Respectful of her elders too_. ‘I brought you a gift, bread and cheese, for your beautiful statue of the goddess.’

‘That is too kind. You must share it with me. That is the least I can do after you climbed the mountain to come visit me.’

‘How could do decline such a kind offer?’ Aphrodite smiled.

After Luisa offered the best part of the bread and cheese to the gods, they ate together in peace, Aphrodite observing Luisa in silence. Deciding that if anyone deserved her help, it was Luisa. She had passed all her tests with flying colors.

‘If I may ask, what are you working on now, child? Another statue of the goddess maybe?’

Luisa blushed prettily. ‘No, it came to me in a dream. I am not sure who it is.’

 _A dream_. It seemed she was not the only god keeping an eye on Luisa. Dreams were gifts from the gods after all.

‘Might I see it?’

‘Yes, of course. It is not yet finished, I must warn you.’

‘I am sure it will still be lovely. You have a great skill.’

Luisa cast her eyes down. ‘I am just a humble sculptor. The gods have blessed me with a gift, I can claim no ownership of it.’

‘They could not have found someone more deserving of it,’ Aphrodite said truthfully as she followed Luisa inside.

‘She might be the goddess Aphrodite,’ the goddess herself said as she gazed at the statue. ‘She is of great beauty.’ The cold marble seemed alive somehow, showing the soft lines of a woman’s curves, hewn fabric lightly clinging to skin. Elegant cheekbones, plush lips and a delicate brow creating a beautiful face. The craftsmanship was extraordinary, Aphrodite had rarely seen anything like it.

‘None are as beautiful as the goddess. My statues could never do her justice.’

‘Very well spoken. But this woman is of exceptional beauty still.’

‘She is,’ Luisa said reverently, stroking her hand down in a plead in the statue’s dress, brushing away some dust.

The sculptor looked at the statue with love in her eyes. She had created the perfect woman. Just out of marble instead out of flesh.

And suddenly Aphrodite knew the perfect blessing to give this mortal.

‘Will you be able to finish it tomorrow?’ the goddess asked.

‘Yes, I think so,’ Luisa nodded. ‘Just need to clean up some details and polish the stone. It should be all finished come morning.’

‘You should finish it,’ Aphrodite said. ‘I feel good things will happen if you do.’ She let her eyes flare golden for a moment, showing Luisa who she truly was.

Luisa’s eyes went wide but before she could do anything else, the goddess had disappeared, leaving only the scent of roses behind.

As Luisa set to work on fulfilling the goddess’ request, Aphrodite went to work herself. She would need some help with this one.

‘Father,’ the goddess said as she kneeled at Zeus’ feet, clutching his knees in subjugation. ‘I have a request on the behalf of a mortal woman.’

The cloud-gatherer shot her a curious glance; women had always been a weakness of his.

‘What is it, child?’

As Aphrodite explained her plan to him, Zeus’ expression darkened like the thunder clouds associated with him.

‘I cannot do what you ask, child. I cannot make a statue come to life.’

‘But father, this sculptor has created countless beautiful statues for our temples. She has a skill unmatched by any other mortal, yet she remains humble and devout. You know, as I do, humans are not meant to be alone, and despite all the goodness in this woman, she has no one to share it with. How could we let someone so good suffer? No father, I simply won’t stand for it.’

Zeus listened to all of this in silence, his expression unchanging.

‘A favor, father. If you help me with this, I will help you when you shall require it.’

Suddenly Zeus’ eyes sparkled and Aphrodite knew she had him. There had been talk of some wily nymph Zeus had had his eye on for a while, but with Hera breathing down his neck after Io he had not yet had a chance to pursue, Aphrodite had just offered it to him, and all he had to do was give her some of his breath.

‘Very well,’ Zeus said, nodding his head and it was decided.

‘Thank you, father,’ Aphrodite smiled, kissing her father’s cheek in gratitude.

‘Do not thank me yet. First me must travel to the underworld.’

Aphrodite had expected as much, eternal smile still in place they made their way down the winding path to Hades’ domain. Three voices becoming glare as they approached a cave just below the surface.

‘Spin.’

‘Measure.’

‘Cut.’

The three Morai busy with their perpetual duty of creating the treads of life.

Clotho spun them from golden thread, Lachesis measured them, and finally Atropos with her gilded sheers snipped the thread, determining the end of a person’s life.

‘Zeus,’ Clotho started, not looking up from her spinning wheel. There was never a break for the Fates, human lives must always begin, be lived and end.

‘what can we do for you,’ Lachesis continued.

‘today?’ Atropos finished.

‘I will need one of your golden threads,’ Zeus said as he explained the situation to the three Morai in front of him. The looked taken aback, life was not meant for statues, and a soul least of all, but even they could not ignore an order from the all-father.

Aphrodite smiled gracefully as Clotho spun her thread.

‘How long should it be?’ Lachesis asked, ruler in hand while her sister’s sheers hung by her side, unsure where to cut.

Aphrodite snapped her fingers, another golden thread appearing in her hands. ‘Measure it to this one. That way they will never have to life a day without each other.’

‘Very well.’ Lachesis lined the two threads up, Atropos snipping the end without a moment’s doubt.

‘It is done,’ she proclaimed, handing the thread to Zeus as they returned to their usual ritual of spinning, measuring, and cutting.

‘The statue should be done by now,’ Aphrodite said as they made their way up to the world of the living, Eos’ rosy fingered glow precluding the rise of Helios’ chariot.

Miles away, on a lonely mountain top in Cyprus, Luisa put the finishing touches to her statue. She had worked all night to get it perfect, but now it was done, continuing would mean to ruin it.

She watched the statue, once again wishing the woman it depicted was real.

Aphrodite had told her to finish it and good things would happen. She didn’t know what that meant, only that it was dangerous to disregard an immortal’s order.

She sank to her knees in prayer, thanking the goddess for her blessing. Whatever it would be.

Invisible to her, two gods appeared in her house.

‘See, father?’ Aphrodite said as she motioned to the praying Luisa.

‘It is a fine statue, I will give you that,’ Zeus said soberly. Winding the thread of life around the statue’s wrist before breathing softly into her mouth, bringing her life like he had once done for the humans he created from clay.

Luisa was sure she was imaging things as she saw the statue’s chest start to move like she was drawing breath. No, it couldn’t be. Her hopes had her mind playing tricks on her.

But slowly the statue’s skin started to color pink, blood beginning to flow underneath soft, alive skin.

Luisa watched the transformation happen before her very eyes, the woman from her dreams appearing in front of her as the statue came to life. Right down to the red of her hair and blue of her eyes as they blinked open.

A soft smile curved up the statue’s, _no,_ woman’s lips as she looked down at Luisa.

Not knowing what to do in this situation, Luisa stammered, saying the first thing that popped into her head.

‘What do I call you?’

‘I have no name,’ the woman answered as she stepped down from the pedestal, offering Luisa her hands, her soft, living, definitely not marble, hands. ‘You created me from stone, your prayers gave me life, you should name me.’

‘Rose,’ Luisa said definitively. ‘Your name should be Rose.’


End file.
